


Ever So Slightly

by Len0306a



Category: Hannibal (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Metaphors, Banshee Lydia Martin, Dark Lydia Martin, Dark Stiles Stilinski, Dark Will Graham, Depression, F/M, Imagination, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lydia is Perfect, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Psychological Drama, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, stiles is polish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 05:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Len0306a/pseuds/Len0306a
Summary: A fox falls in love with a wailing women. A stag watched while the wolf learns how tobecome





	Ever So Slightly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toyoto031999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyoto031999/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Comes and Goes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669933) by [toyoto031999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyoto031999/pseuds/toyoto031999). 



> Sorry I've been gone for so long, I've been taking anti-depressants but they don't seem to be working as well as I hoped.

Stiles didn’t realize at first. Didn’t see that Scott cut his hair, that Malia hated him. Didn’t notice much of anything, lately. After everything he just became….numb. His phone would never ring, his dad was never around to see him, and Melissa didn’t visit him anymore. He wasn’t invited anywhere, wasn’t talked to. All Stiles could think about was,  _ this is what Boyd and Erica and Isaac must’ve felt liked _ . He tried to change it, texted everyone more often, but conversations were stilted and everyone didn’t want him around anymore. Stiles took it with stride. 

 

He slowly stopped trying to contact the pack, didn’t try and see if the latest crime was supernaturally inclined. He studied and watched Youtube, and continued on. He didn’t want to leave the house, more specifically, leave his room. He couldn’t get out of bed as happily as he used to, taking twenty minutes worth of distraction instead. He’d play on his phone or stare at the ceiling. Then he started looking out the window and realized that the trees’ were taller than before, their branches spread farther than he’s ever seen. He had looked around the room and couldn’t remember the last time he cleaned it, although it was immaculate. Stiles had started to count his fingers but froze when he saw his bruised and bloody knuckles. He check his phone for the time, seeing it was  _ July 16th, 2018 _ . He stared at his room, the posters gone, replaced with post-it notes and things he had to study. 

 

There wasn’t a lacrosse stick anywhere, and his bed was nicely made. When was the last time he studied? Played a video game? Read a book? And that’s when he realized that he couldn’t remember anything, only glimpses, days missing. Then Stiles had pack. He had graduated high school seven years ago, and is in the middle of studying how to be a doctor at the community college. He had still lived with his dad. Stiles had quickly transferred to a new school at the University of Maryland, and bought a cheap apartment. He filled it with the essentials. Couches and cleaners, beds and boots. He stilled had weapons, but they were useless now. He had graduated early, and then he had got a job as a pharmacist. 

 

He started therapy because he wanted to  _ remember _ , and he slowly had. But then his therapist was attacked, Mrs. Bedelia Du Maurier, and Stiles had been referred to a new therapist. His name was Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and he had eyes like Gerard. Something crazed hidden beneath the  _ person suit _ , as Mrs. Du Maurier called it. Stiles liked it, knowing his therapist was a monster. Slowly, every so slowly, Stiles realized who Dr. Lecter was. Then he became a surgeon, and realized why Dr. Lecter thought of everyone as swine. He saw such darkness, a monster lurking beneath everyones’ skin. 

 

Lydia tracked him down, forced him to remember. She didn’t make him go back, instead she forced him to love her. He didn’t do it willingly, still skeptical of her motives, but he slowly fell in love once again. It wasn’t as obsessive as before, more tender. It still held a sharpness, an intellectual danger beneath its surface, and Stiles realized what his mother meant when she called him a  _ beautiful monster _ . Stiles and Lydia laugh darkly at the wrong times, got married in the winter, and bought a house that screamed  _ fear us _ . The somehow had moved next to Hannibal Lecter, who he stopped seeing after he tried to unleash Stiles’ monster. 

 

“Darling, the Stag is eating the pigs’” Stiles said, his feet dangling on the roof as Lydia sat beside him. She smiled something dangerous and grabbed the back of his neck. “The third one this month, it seems.”   
  
Stiles hummed an affirmative, a dark smile spreading across his face. The Chesapeake Ripper right inside the fox’s den, prancing like it belonged there. Stiles considered killing him, but thought better of it. After all, he did need a new therapist. Lydia broke him from his thoughts, kept him grounded by tugging on his fingers. Her hand rested on her swollen stomach, moving his hand right next to hers. “The pack would love our new addition.”   
  
“I’d be nice to see them again.” Stiles agreed, Lydia smiling tenderly at him. She pet his hand it thanks as Stiles helped her up, them both walking back down to the third floor of their houses. “Let’s hope the Stag doesn’t devour the wolves, hm?”   
  
So Lydia invited the pack after their child was born, and Stiles started seeing Hannibal again. Their reunion was awkward, the pack uncomfortable around the person they rejected; they knew they were near something twisted, and were nervous around Stiles. He just smiled.

 

After the pack had went back to their floor, Stiles had settled down next to Lydia and their child, Apolonia, and stated, “Call me Mieczyslaw.” Lydia had agreed and said his name perfectly, smiling and kissing his cheek. They put Lonia in her crib, and laid together, tangled in blankets and limbs. “Goodnight, my sweet Mieczyslaw.”   
  
They continued on, Mieczyslaw remembering more of his life from ever before, only truly happy when he was around Lydia and Lonia. Mieczyslaw felt more calm than before, and was happy to take care of Lonia why Lydia was at work, quitting his job to do so. After a few months of such brightness, a letter sucked up all the light.  _ You have been cordially invited to attend Count Hannibal Lecter III’s dinner party at XXXX XXXXX on April 8th _ . So they hired a nanny, and Mieczyslaw and Lydia had dressed to the occasion, Lydia wearing a long evening dress, burgundy, with an A-line and long sleeves. Mieczyslaw had worn a black tux with a black button down, along with a red tie and handkerchief. Hannibal seemed to admire elegance, so Mieczyslaw and Lydia had worn fine clothes. 

 

The dinner was fine, although the couple didn’t enjoy eating people. The only oddity that stood out was Hannibal’s prized guest, a man by the name of Will Graham. Lydia had twirled around him, speaking breathlessly, “The wolf and the stage seem to be in a love crime.” Mitch had smiled, twirled Lydia around and leaned down to her ear, “Although then don’t realize that there is more than two endings.”   
  
So they had intervened. Lydia had taught Hannibal patience, while Stiles had taught Will acceptance. Slowly, the crimes lowered but never stopped, and Will had become a permanent, unbroken fixture in the Lecter household. They were the guests’ of honor among Hannibal’s dinner parties, and spun an FBI agent by the name of Jack Crawford in circles. 

 

“Where you alway like this?” Will asked him, settling down in the back of Mitch’s walkaround porch.    
  
“No, but it’s so much fun.” Mitch smiled sharply at the man who just raised an eyebrow at him. Will rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “I mean this reserved. Your mask is too perfect, and even I can’t see behind it.”   
  
Mitch just shook his head. “There isn’t any me left. All I have is my mask, my  _ person suit _ . I have been hollowed out, and there’s nothing that has filled the ravine inside me,” Mitch paused, looking at Lydia who was teaching their daughter math.. “Although…” Mitch waving his hand in his family’s direction, “This comes pretty close.”

 

Will had sat in silence, as Mitch handed Will a small piece of paper. “That’s an old friend. He’ll teach you how to fight and how to survive when you’re toppling over the edge.” Will took the card, and called the number after he left. 

 

Chris was back in their lives now, teaching the Lecter-Graham household how to fight and keeping the supernatural away. As Lydia screamed and Will hallucinated, Mitch knew that there were too many loose ends. So they took over, bringing Jack Crawford to his knees and Alana Bloom choking on cyanide. Margot Verger hangs from her ceiling and Bella died by an air bubble in her syringe. The Great Red Dragon gurgled on his blood and a fox darted around and a wailing woman brought the creature to his knees. 

 

Mitch realized that pack should do anything for its own, so he does. He kills the monsters that dare to threaten his family, keep the psychopaths away from the wolf and the stag. Suddenly nothing in Mayland goes bump in the night, not even the humans. Crime rates drop as killers and rapist realize that the state of MD is taken. There are still deaths, mostly by Hannibal, but they’re at an all time low. The monsters are defeat and the Martin household grows old. Adolonia takes over the business, gets married and has many grandchildren. On their deathbeds, faced by a hissing basilisk, Mieczyslaw Martin smiled at his death. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Click [here](https://len0306a.tumblr.com) to prompt me on Tumblr. 
> 
> Lena/Lee


End file.
